Major Bummer!
by Croup
Summary: Grunge finally gets some well-deserved punishment for all his stupid behavior. A hard spanking over Lynch's lap!


So there we were, heading back from yet another of our big super-villain fightin' field trips. The whole team was there, Fairchild (aka Caitlin, the red-headed dream hottie), Burnout (aka. Bobby, my best bud), Rainmaker (aka. Sarah, the total lesbo environmentalist hottie), Freefall (aka. Roxy, my other best bud . . . also kinda a hottie) and me, Grunge (aka. the group's token badass slacker pizza-guzzlin' party guy!)

Of course, Mr. Lynch was there too, our cranky mentor-figure dude. He was piloting the jet, and hadn't said two words to us besides "buckle up" since we'd taken off. That was because, well the grizzled dude was kinda pissed at me. Well, maybe more than just "kinda"! Y'see, on this last little excursion, I'd made a couple, uh, bad decisions. I'm not gonna tell you what they were or nothing, but let's just say out of the two brains I've got, I let the lower one take charge, y'know? (that's code for I was trying to get laid again!) Hey, how was I supposed to know the babe with the big rack would turn out to be one of the bad guys, er, ladies?

Anyway, this wasn't the first time something like this'd happened, so I figgered Mr. L was boiling in his seat because of it. Hey what can I say. I'm an able-bodied, healthy young man, natch! Of course I wanna get me some! But Mr. L never seemed to see it that way. I was probably in for a long boring speech and some extra training when we got back to La Jolla. Man, what's the point of being a super-hero if you can't have a little fun?

The rest of the team was kinda bummed out by Mr. L's mood, too. Roxy tried to make small-talk, but for the most part we all sat there in silence. It sucked to be in that plane, dude. Like a road trip where dad's threatened to turn the car around if there's one more peep.

We were all glad when Mr. L finally landed the thing. Unbuckling myself, I stretched out the kinks in my back, and got ready to indulge in some choice comfort foods--MTV and video games! Maybe even a little quality time with some of my stashed Playboy mags for some of my _other_ tensions, if you know what I mean. But Mr. L stood in front of the door, blocking the exit. "The rest of you go on ahead," he said, "I'd like to have a private discussion with Percival before he departs."

Aw, man! I cringed when he used my real name. He only does that when he's really pissed. The rest of the team all filed out, girls going first (and I gotta say I admired the view). Caitlin and Roxy both offered me a sympathetic smile as they went by, while Sarah just sniffed. She probably thought I deserved whatever scolding I was about to get. When Bobby left, he gave me a pat on the back and a pitying look--like he knew exactly what I was in for. Makes you wonder if, maybe . . . _nah._

"We'll see you two back at the house, okay?" Caitlin said. Then the metal doors whizzed shut, and I was alone with Mr. L.

The man paced around the jet, scowling at me. Dude, it was like he was so chafed he didn't even know where to start. I stood there waiting nervously. For some reason, I had a feeling this lecture was gonna be different from the others. And how right I'd be! Course, not that I knew that for sure or anything yet. But I'm telling ya, Mr. L was seriously riled. I plucked at my costume a little self-conscious-like, feeling oddly vulnerable in the air-conditioned jet interior.

I was wearing my usual crime-fighting duds: tight red spandex pants, boots, arm-bands, my badass tattoos, and nothing else. Yeah yeah, I know. I'm pretty much on display, right? But that's just the kinda thing super-heroes wear! You should see what some of the chicks get. Costumes that barely even cover their jugs and, heheh, assets (not that I mind or nothin', trust me!). Anyway, you'd dress like me too if you were as sexy as the Grunge-man. And you know the ladies like checking me out. Dudes, too! Hey, I don't mind if a guy's into me. They can look all they want as long as they don't touch, know what ah'm sayin'?

Anyway, after a few minutes of him storming around in angry silence--with his scarred face and bionic eye flashing all over the place--I was starting to get a little creeped out. "So, uh, what's up Mr. L?" I asked.

It seemed to explode out of him. "I'll tell you, Grunge! You are the most--"

But as soon as he started talking, my mind started wanderin'. Hey, don't look at me like that. You've heard one Lynch lecture, you've heard 'em all. I got to thinking about Caitlin instead. Oh man, when the Gen Factor made her the super hottiest super-hottie in the world. With her clothes all ripping up and those melons totally inflating like big ol' balloons! If only Roxy hadn't made me give her my shirt that time, I totally could've seen some Fairchild titty! Maybe if I used my powers to meld with her bedsheets sometime, I could--

"Are you listening to me, Grunge?"

"Uhhh, yeah, sure!" I replied, totally snapping back to attention. "I gotta be more responsible and stuff, and work on my powers more. I can do that, yeah!" It was the usual spiel, just trying to get him off my back. Right then the big booger up my nose was a lot more interesting than whatever he'd been saying, so I put all my concentration into picking it out. Mr. L is cool and all sometimes, but his lectures are major snooze-o-ramas.

But when I wasn't paying attention, he--get this! Mr. L grabbed me--and chucked me over his lap! I found myself draped over his knees like a big dumb gorilla, and held down by his strong arms.

"Actually Grunge, I was saying that if you were my son I would give you the discipline you so badly have coming--and that you obviously require."

"H--huh? Discipline!?" I asked, barely understanding the word. His knees were digging into my stomach. "Whaddaya mean, Mr. L?"

Then he slapped his hand on my butt!

"I'm talking about a good, hard, spanking," he said darkly. Then he did it again! Gave me a firm whap right on my glutes!

"Woah, man! What!?" I couldn't believe what he was saying! . . . Or doing! I mean, I know Mr. L is old fashioned and all, but that stuff was banned around the turn of the century, right? If it were any other guy, I would've called 'im out for playing a prank on me right then--but this was Mr. L we're talking about. Dude's got no sense of highly refined humor, like myself. The man's even more serious than Roxy when she's watching her soaps. I flexed my ass nervously under his grip. "Well, dude, I'm not your son!" I said, "Bobby is! So if you wanna spank somebody, spank him!"

"I would, if he deserved it half as much as you do," Mr. L said. "But comparing your stupid, imbecilic acts to his would be like comparing . . . " He thought about it for a second. "I can't even think of a ridiculous enough metaphor. As for not being your father, I AM your guardian, and responsible for your behavior. And I'm sure your own would have no problem with what I'm about to do. If Doctor Chang had been around to properly raise you, this would've happened years ago."

And then he started . . . shit! Y'know . . . he started beating my ass for real! My mouth hung open in shock as his palm connected hard with my right butt-cheek, indenting the firm, round bun (hey, I can say that because it's true, a'ight? Have you _seen_ my ass in costume? Like two ripe, perky cantaloupes dipped in spandex). This was totally uncool! It wasn't no little light slap either like I've seen in some kinky pornos. Naw man, this was a full-on ass-smack of PAIN, designed totally to punish! When the next spank cracked down, I actually yelped from it. It felt like something had just taken a bite outta my butt! I started wriggling around trying to get free.

"Oww! Mondo uncool, man!"

Now, okay, I know what you're thinking. How does a guy like Lynch manage to hold a big, strappin' meathead like me over his lap? Well, the answer is . . . I dunno dude! He just did! And I couldn't get away! It was like he had some sort of super kung-fu grip on me or something. The guy's been around the block though, so maybe this wasn't the first time he'd spanked an SPB fella like me. (come to think of it, didn't that Grifter guy mention something about that happening way back in their Team 7 days?) All I know is, I was locked in place worse than Bobby at a _Sound Garden_ concert. I tried to rise up and get outta there, but Mr. L pinned me down like a pro-wrestler. The only thing I could do was kick and squirm as he kept on pounding my butt, working over my spandex-clad buns. There wasn't even anything in reach I could touch and use my powers with! Major bummer!

"Oof! Uh, Mr. L? Nnngh! Maybe we can--ouch!--talk this over or something!" I yelled, pumping my poor ass-cheeks up and down.

"We've tried talking before, haven't we?" Mr. Lynch snarled back, walloping me like it was nobody's business. "It's never worked with you, Grunge, so I doubt it would start now. It goes in one ear and out the other! I don't know if it's because my vocabulary doesn't sounds like I picked it up at a frat party somewhere, or because you're even more of a stupid, selfish, horny idiot than I thought you were. But _this_ discussion is phrased in a way that anyone will understand--**even you**."

Yeah, I was understanding it alright--understanding that my flexing bubble-butt was hurting like a mo'fo'! "Dude! Oww, Mr. L! C'mon dude, lighten up! Don't be so--Yoowww!--serious all the time, man!"

But Mr. L wasn't listening to me anymore. Smack after smack fell, and I could feel my glutes bouncing under 'em. I must've looked ridiculous--this big muscle dude, wiggling around in pain and embarrassment under the hard whacks. I squirmed my butt-muscles under the barrage, but was still unable to get away. It hurt like crazy! Almost worse than that time Threshold tortured me naked, even! And I'm not trying to sound like a wimp or anything, dude. You don't believe a spanking can hurt that bad? I dare you to get one yourself! But . . . I'd recommend you get one from a kinky dominatrix babe or somethin', not a mean dude like Mr. L. His are the worst! Maybe get one of them Coda to do it. They look like they'd be into all kinds of hot stuff.

Mmmm, Coda.

Uh, but anyway, so there I was! Yelping and gritting my teeth under a major butt-whuppin' from IO's former finest. I did what any self respectin' dude would do in that situation, right? I reached back to try and block his hand! Well, I guess Mr. L didn't like that too much. Like a snake, he grabbed my arm and pinned it to the center of my back, right up against my Yin Yang tattoo. Next thing I know is, Mr. Lynch is gripping the back of my _pants!_

"Wh--HEY! I'm NAKED under that!" I yelled in alarm. Was he seriously gonna strip me!? The answer: yeah, he totally was! The mean old dude completely ignored what I was saying and peeled the costume right down off of my buns. I couldn't believe it--there I was! Suddenly bare-ass naked over Mr. L's lap! My nuts bounced out too as the tights got shucked down to my knees, and my half-hard junk kinda rubbed itself against his leg. Man, a guy's wang has a mind of it's own sometimes. But right then my johnson was the last thing on my mind (for once!)

"DuuuuUUUUDE!" I yelled as he started spanking me again. It hurt way worse on naked cheek. Guess the synthetic fibers or whatever that was in the spandex gave more protection than I thought! But now they were gone, and I could only wriggle and yelp as Mr. L really started dishing it out onto my bare, twisting ass. Damn, his hand was hard like a ROCK! I started hollering and yelling from the pain. Dude, don't laugh! It hurt like a bitch! He was spanking my toned, muscular rump like it was going out of style! It felt like my buns were catching some of Burnout's sizzling _plasma blasts!_ Yeowch!

I yelled for him to stop again, but he was in his own little world. In there, he was probably beating all his frustrations about having to lead a group of dumb kids out on me! I mean, I guess we do act sorta ditzy once in a while, but geez! Is that any reason to bang on my butt-cheeks like a pair of bongos!? This was one painful (though killer!) drum solo!

The only saving grace I got was that at least none of the girls or Bobby was around to see me get my ass handed to me. This was humiliating enough as it was! But I could just see Bobby cracking up laughing at me slung naked over his dad's mean lap. Or Roxy's nervous giggling, watching her adorable stud-muffin pleadin' for mercy.

It was only when I started really squealing that Mr. L began lecturing again. "This is for every foolhardy, stupid, dangerous thing you've done while a member of this team," he said through gritted teeth, pounding my ass. "The fact that you've driven me to even give you this ridiculous punishment is proof that you need to shape up. If you ever bothered to think with your brain, we. Wouldn't. Have. To. Do. This!" He punctuated every word with an even sharper smack. By then I was wriggling around begging and whimpering, barely hearing his voice over the pain in my butt.

I bet you can just picture it now. Me, the big dumb loveable oaf of the team, sprawled naked over Lynch's lap. Bucking, grinding, and flexing my flaming ass like crazy. Humping the dude's thigh! Dude, you still don't get it. It hurt so freaking bad! And I was totally helpless to stop it. I kicked with my heavy booted feet, flexed with my big arms, clenched and flexed my aching butt-cheeks--but nothing I did could stop those spanks from smacking down hard. I couldn't take much more.

"Dude, owww! Please! Ouch! It hurts!"

"And another thing! Don't call me dude!" Mr. Lynch yelled back. Then he kept pounding away. Just like that! Like he wasn't even listening to me!

"Aoooooowwww!" I wailed.

And that was that. In all, it took maybe five more minutes before Mr. L was done roasting my tail. When he was finally done, I was a totally defeated dude--bawlin' and blubberin' like an overgrown baby over his knee. Mr. L had trounced me good. Let's face it . . . I'd been SPANKED! Once he let me back up, my hands zoomed in on my ass to rub and hold the throbbing flesh. My cheeks felt like two well-cooked, tenderized slabs of meat. Two toasted burger buns. A serious rump roast. Man, all this talk about food is making me starved, but that's what it felt like! I checked myself out in the mirror later, and would you believe it--my butt was even redder than my costume!

As I stood there with my pants at my ankles, rubbing my sore, naked ass, Mr. L gave one final lecture. This time though, I actually listened to it. Let's just say there's few better motivators to pay attention than an achin' booty, alright? And the knowledge that the man who gave it to you can throw you right back over his lap if you don't listen up! He went on about how the next time I pulled another stupid stunt like that I'd be getting the exact same punishment. Except (gulp) worse!

He also talked about how the team had needed stricter discipline since before we'd formed. And that me 'n Bobby, since we were the guys, would be getting the brunt of the spankings. Since the girls tended to be a lot more mature than we two were, I could forget any "salacious thoughts" I had of watching them get disciplined like we got. Whatever that meant! And dude, Roxy was mature now? Talk about your double entendres! I mean, uh, standards!

But naw. As much as the thought of Caitlin or Sarah getting a nice woodshed treatment appealed to me (and Bobby too, now that I think about it . . . ), I knew that I'd always be the #1 most-deserving applicant in Mr. L's eyes. It royally sucked, man! Doesn't Mr. L know we young guys just gotta be our trouble-making selves? Y'know . . . boys will be boys, and all that! Seemed like from then on I'd be getting a red butt whenever I tried to have a little fun!

That didn't stop me from doing some spanking of my own once I got back to our place at La Jolla though--spanking my monkey, that is! Y'know, choking the chicken . . . tickling the pickle . . . buffing the banana . . . stroking the sausage, . . . beating my meat! As soon as I shut the door to my room, my pants were back down to my ankles. I fell onto my back in bed, stuck my feet up in the air, and I started jerking my hard _thang_ for all it was worth. I was so turned on! Something about how I'd been pinned helpless over Mr. L's lap like a bad little boy, whimpering and beggin'--it all got me so dang _sprung_. I must've drooled a bunch too with all those weird new fantasies spinning through my head, because when I was done the pillow was stuck against the side of my face.

But, I shot one of my biggest loads ever! Even more than with my usual fantasies about Kaitlin and Sarah making out in lingerie, licky style. (and you know they totally would, too--well, at least Sarah would)

I looked down at the spunk covering my big chest tattoo with surprise. Who'da thunk it. I liked gettin' spanked. And not just by chicks! With this new self-knowledge in hand--along with a towel to wipe myself off with--I decided that, dude, maybe being naughty had it's advantages after all. I mean, if it got me off like that! So now I just gotta think of something good to piss Mr. L off with next time, right?

Got any ideas, dudes?


End file.
